


Dancing out in Space. (You're exactly who I want to be with.)

by ftwnhgn



Series: no written guidelines. [4]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Hanschen is still a Bowie stan, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Dancing, Wedding Fluff, Wendla and Ilse are still the power couple of the century, everyone is annoyed by it, everyone is in love, melchior is on the road to being happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 07:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10485723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftwnhgn/pseuds/ftwnhgn
Summary: Wendla and Ilse at Hanschen and Ernst's wedding.(Plus cameos by the wedding couple itself and a surprisingly content Melchior Gabor from afar.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello. I am back. I'm gay and I'm back (Andrew Rannells voice). The past few weeks I've been travelling a bit through the country, visited my family and spent most of my time writing my dreadful final assignments for two of my courses. Now that these are done, but not yet send away, I sat down to write. (hooray!)
> 
> This is shorter than I wanted it to be, I apologize, but I'm still deadly tired and staring just a minute longer at a word document would have probably caused the end of my laptop's life-span. But it's finally Wendla and Ilse! The two great fictional loves of my life - or something along those lines. It's their short turn to narrate things and we get a glimpse into the wedding of the century.
> 
> As always, I'm not a native speaker and this is completely unbeta'd - I apologize for any errors that occur.
> 
> Title: Dancing In Space and Without You - David Bowie

_There's no smoke without fire._  
_Woman, I love you._  
_Without you what would I do?_  
\- David Bowie

_***_

 

They’re standing close together, hands together and arms and bodies touching. The wedding band – _of course_ Hanschen and Ernst would have a wedding band and not a DJ like every normal couple – seem to have finished with playing the whole back catalog of every Bowie song ever released since _The Man Who Sold The World_ and are now switching to something less eccentric of the likes of Sinatra and The Beatles.

“They can’t play songs that were released after we’ve all been born, can they?” Wendla wonders out loud as Ilse sways them gently on the dance floor.

Ilse chuckles. “I think they played some Robbie Williams before, but that’s just because Ernst connects, like, his whole solo discography to our college years. Could be wrong, though. At this point, I’m not even sure music outside the Seventies and Eighties ever existed.”

Wendla nods and takes a small spin before getting reeled back in by Ilse. They connect again and keep on swaying side to side.

“We probably still have to wait a few hours until they bring out some Katy Perry. But I’m not sure if I can bear one man howling desperately about the love of his life much longer,” she adds to Ilse’s commentary from before.

On the dance floor they pass Hanschen and Ernst, who are just standing still and holding each other, Ernst’s face tucked in under Hanschen’s chin, his hands resting around the blonde’s neck. Hanschen seems to be mumbling something into his ear – probably the lyrics of the song playing – but looks up when Ilse and Wendla appear in his field of sight. He gives them a curt grin and shrugs as Ilse is making good-natured gagging motions over Wendla’s head, both of them kindly ignoring that they’re mirroring each other.

Wendla just shakes her head and rests her temple against Ilse’s collarbone, and then she and Ilse are already moving along to the next free spot on the floor.

“You know, I would be madder if they weren’t so godforsakenly in love with each other,” Ilse points out, her hand now on Wendla’s back, holding her closer. “And if one of them wouldn’t have been my best friend since he knew how to separate letters from numbers.”

They’re moving past the two dining tables and the wedding cake and from where Wendla’s head is resting, she can see Ada and Melchior sitting next to each other, both a dessert in their hands and him showing her something on his phone. Ada seems to be greatly interested in what Melchior has to say and Wendla just hopes that it’s of academic nature and not an explanation on how to bring down the capitalist economy of the 21st century. But she’s trying not to stress it and just gives them both a small wave and a warm smile when they notice her. Ada waves back animatedly while Melchior takes a bit longer to catch on, but sheepishly raises his hand as well.

It’s good. All is good. Melchior and Ada have been getting along surprisingly well since he arrived, which Wendla never thought would have been possible, and despite Ada still not really seeing him as her father, they’re all working on changing it. Of course it’s not that easy – Melchior missed out on what where most of the first years of her life and in the last few months he might have made an effort, but Wendla also made clear that his mental health has to improve and that he has to _take care_ of himself if he wants to be a permanent part of Ada’s life. And the road is still long and frustrating to say the most, but right now Wendla is just happy that they’re making progress. It also makes things easier for her and Ilse, so there’s that.

“Stop worrying for once, jeez. We’re at our best friends’ wedding and Ada hasn’t kicked Melchior in the shin, everything is going great. Yet I can hear you thinking even from up here,” Ilse nudges her rips and Wendla lifts her head up to look into her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “I was just; I saw them sitting there and it made me just feel so grateful about the progress we all made as a family.”

Ilse looks at her face, her eyes drawn a bit together, but then she understands and a smile spreads across her soft features. It’s the embodiment of warmth and beauty for Wendla and her heart seems to expand three sizes. But that became a natural occurrence since Ilse became her girlfriend. It’s a known thrill that makes Wendla even happier than looking at her life at the moment, because it’s always there whether things in her life go well or not, and it reminds her of her anchor that will always ground her in cases of bad weather. Ilse is the greatest thing in her life along with Ada. And she’s right, Wendla shouldn’t worry today, not when Ilse is dancing with her like there’s no one else on this earth, like they’re all alone.

“It’s alright,” Ilse says, smile still intact on her face and audible in her voice. “As long as you promise to not think about anything for the rest of the day,” she then requests, laughter lacing her voice.

Wendla snorts and now it’s her turn to poke Ilse. “I promise,” she tells her and Ilse bows down to kiss her. It’s short and sweet and full of love and not only fits the theme of the day, but also the two of them. The kiss is simple, but somehow Wendla will remember it from then on as one of the best they ever shared. She still feels warm all-over, like sunlight has streamed over her the whole day and filled her up with happiness from the inside.

She has the distant feeling that Ilse feels the same. Especially when they look at each other again and Ilse still has that smile on her face, although Ada and Melchior have been out of their view and ear-shot for several minutes. They also stopped dancing altogether, now just standing and leaning against each other, and as Henry Mancini’s _Moon River_ trails off, they’re resting their foreheads against each other and smile at each other. Ilse’s eyes look clear and sure and beautiful even in the dim light and it reminds Wendla of the first time they kissed, when she was so fascinated by Ilse’s eyes that she didn’t even close hers as their mouths bumped together.

It’s the same right now. Another kiss, another time of Wendla not closing her eyes while Ilse shuts hers half-way through, knowing full-well of her girlfriend’s habit. The warmth in Wendla still hasn’t disappeared.

The band is starting a new song _, All You Need Is Love_ , and they both break apart to groan in unison.

“If we ever marry, not one Beatles song will be on the playlist,” Ilse announces, but starts to guide them back on the dance floor nonetheless, getting joined by other couples in doing so.

Wendla nods. “Not if I can’t help myself so.”

Ilse sighs happily. “That’s exactly why I love you,” she proclaims.

They spin around and pass Hanschen and Ernst again, who seem to be serenading each other.

“I love you too.” Wendla answers in a laugh as she can see Ilse rolling her eyes.

They keep on dancing until the end of the night anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hanschen is just a Bowie stan because I'm one as well, let's be real. By the way, Ilse had the most killer maid of honor / best woman speech of any wedding ever but will I ever write it? Who knows. 
> 
> now, if you enjoyed this small thing, leave a comment if you want, or chat with me on tumblr (heroesgettingnaked) or twitter (andreinbolkonsky) where I rant about the under-appreciating of michael arden and anything he ever starred in or sob about luke evans. not necessary connected and in that order, though.
> 
> friendly reminder: you are loved, you are enough and you will achieve great things. you are right just the way you are, a living and breathing thing. keep going.


End file.
